Dances, Pretty Bentos, and Tennis Players
by JaxWin
Summary: Ryoma demonstrates exactly how asking a girl out can go horribly wrong.


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Prince of Tennis. If I did, then The New Prince of Tennis would never exist.

"Where is he? Where's that old man?" Ryoma stormed into his house, sounding pretty pissed for someone usually so calm.

"Ryoma? What did your father do this time?" his mother asked, poking her head out of the kitchen.

"M-mom," Ryoma stuttered, freezing in place. "This is between the old – I mean, Dad and me. Don't worry, I'll just go and quietly find him. Talktoyoulater!" he called over his shoulder, trying to run away before he had to _talk_ with his _mother_. That would be embarrassing.

A heavy hand came down on his shoulder and he turned to face his mother, smiling a smile too unnaturally large to be - well, natural. "Ryoma, this wouldn't have anything to do, by any chance, with the school dance your classmate Horio called and told me about, now would it?" Ryoma blanched in response and suddenly there were _tears _streaming down his mother's face.

"For god's- WHAT IS IT WITH YOU WOMEN TODAY?! Women and their crying – first Sakuno, now you?! WHAT'S GOING ON?!" Ryoma asked, throwing his hands up in the air in submission.

…

Though he was sure that the girls' tennis club, even the girls' regulars, had already gone home hours ago, there she was, sitting in the bleachers, faithfully waiting for the boys' regulars practice to end as she had done since – well, could he a remember a time when she hadn't been there? No, he couldn't and he was beginning to realize why.

"Captain Sakuno," he smirked, giving her a nod as he began to pack up his racket.

"Good evening to you too, Ryoma-kun," she smiled, turning the faintest shade of pink at the (sort-of) smile he'd given her, and handing him a towel. "Or should I have said Captain Ryoma?" she laughed.

After being appointed captain of the girls' tennis team this year, she had decided to cut off those ridiculously long braids, opting for a shorter crop cut which, in the end, looked just as ridiculous, if not more, in Ryoma's opinion. And, though he wasn't really one to take note of these things, he heard what many of the other boys said and had to agree, her breasts really _weren't_ all that big. Sakuno remained petite, at the short height of 4'11", and, though she dominated the tennis courts, she was still clumsy off the courts and Ryoma would swear that without him, she'd get lost on the way to school.

But. Everyone in their class would have to agree, Sakuno was the sweetest, kindest, nicest girl ever to grace the halls of Seigaku. And though her hips still wobbled, it had become that, uh, nice wobbling, as opposed to that other, not-nice wobbling (it was still weird to him, thinking of her in this way). And lastly, when she laughed, her face lit up in a way that Ryoma found quite… lovely.

"No need for formalities between us, Sakuno," he said easily, bestowing another cat-eyed smile on her just so he could see her face color more. Now that he was aware of the signs, it seemed so obvious. "Here for your… grandmother again?"

He must not have played the part of an ignorant well enough, because she bristled a little at his thinly concealed jab, regaining her composure. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Grandmother! Grandmother, are you about done?"

The old woman snuck a quick glance to make sure that Ryoma was already packed up. Times were coming where the only way she felt she could assert her authority was by staying longer than even the captain, even if the captain trained for tremendous hours and hours at a time. "Sakuno! I might have to stay a while longer, dear. You know, I have _lots _and _lots _of work to be doing. Got to take care of all these things, of course."

Sakuno tutted and stuck her tongue out at Ryoma, who was chuckling under his breath. "You should humor her more, Ryoma-kun, she's old, you know."

"I know, but she insists it's no trouble to stay," Ryoma laughed out loud. "Maybe you should go and help her, with whatever she's pretending to do? I'll be right back."

"L-like I care if you go!" Sakuno sniffed in attempted disinterest. She walked over to her grandmother and appeared to be in conversation with her, but Ryoma knew as he walked over to the edge of the tennis courts, that her eyes would stray towards his back every, oh, ten seconds.

"Horio," Ryoma called out the boy waiting at the edge of the courts, in greeting.

"Geez, Ryoma, what's with all the secrecy?" the boy loused, pulling off a cap and sunglasses. "'Buy two tickets for the dance anonymously, bring them to me at the end of practice but don't let anyone see who you are, make sure you aren't followed'. You'd think someone might get killed if you got found out."

"Someone might if he doesn't lower his voice," Ryoma said, paying his classmate back for the tickets. "And I don't just mean you. If the Ryoma Fan Club found out I'd bought two tickets for the upcoming dance…"

"You're not – ! Ryoma, you're _taking someone out to the next dance?!_" Horio asked, horrified. "Not Sakuno…!"

Ryoma tried to look sympathetic. "Sorry."

The other boy sighed. "Yeah, well… Here're your tickets."

"Sakuno! You still helping your grandmother?" Ryoma called across the courts, as he walked back towards the grandmother and granddaughter.

"Yes," Sakuno stubbornly insisted.

"Don't worry, sweetie, you go ahead and go home, alright, Sakuno?" the old woman said kindly to her granddaughter. "Grandmother has _a lot_ of work to finish up here," she added loudly for Ryoma's benefit.

"C'mon, Sakuno, I'll walk you home," Ryoma said, shouldering his pack and walking away before she had a chance to reply.

"I- I can walk home by myself, thank you very much!" she yelled at his receding figure. She bit her lip for a few seconds, before making up her mind and quickly grabbing her own pack and kissing her grandmother lightly on the cheek, running to catch up with Ryoma. "But since we're heading in the same direction…" she muttered as she came up beside him.

…

"Hey, Echizen, end of the year dance is coming up for you, I hear," Momoshiro commented slyly. The old Seigaku boys' regular team was eating out at a restaurant for reunion's sake. After all, it wasn't often that the other boys could take the time out of their busy _high school _tennis lives to meet up with each other.

Ryoma groaned inwardly. It was Let's Poke Fun at Loveless Ochibi Time!~! Did they want to set him up with someone this time?

"Ah, you should go to it," Oishi smiled. "After all, it is going to be the last dance of your middle school life."

"And probably the first," Fuji chuckled.

"What's your new workout routine look like, Ryoma?" Tezuka threw in, completely uninterested in meddling with Ryoma's personal life.

"It's – "

"C'moooon, ask out a girl, Ochibi! What, are you _scaaaared_? Think you're gonna' get _rejected_?" Eiji taunted.

"I don't want to take a _girl _to a _dance_! Dances are boring."

"Yeah, I know, there aren't any tennis matches in them!"

"Most people – 89% of the student body to be exact – seem to think dances are quite fun, actually."

"My routine's as long as Coach'll stay around. When she starts getting tired I figure I should take pity on her and go home."

"Ooh, I know! He's afraid that he'll get carried away and really end up _taking _the girl!"

"God no, ewww, Eiji, that's gross. The kid probably doesn't even know what _it_ is."

"Of course I do - "

"Well, you see, Ryoma, when a man and a woman love each other very much…"

"Doesn't sound very strict for a training schedule. You better get used to a stricter schedule once you graduate. Everyone else is training hard, I trust."

"The guy and the girl get together to, uhm, have some fun and the guy uses his – "

"Mine's twice as long as his," Kaido said suddenly.

"…"

"I was talking about my routine!" Kaido snapped. "How hard is it to carry on a decent, civilized conversation here?! For god's sake, just ask the Ryuuzaki girl out!"

"Sakuno?" Ryoma repeated, startled. "Why would I ask _her_ out?"

"Compared to other girls, you don't seem to mind her at all," Fuji shrugged.

"And you seem very comfortable and happy when with her," Oishi added. "What with all those long captain's meetings you seem to be holding with her nowadays."

"There's also a 100% possibility that she likes you," Inui said, glancing at his data book.

"In other words, she's definitely into you," Takashi restated.

"And you would know this how…?" Ryoma asked skeptically.

"She waits for you everyday after tennis practice and comes to all your games," Momoshiro pointed out, gesturing with a chop stick.

"Her grandmother – " Ryoma protested.

"She used to make bentos for the entire team, but yours was the prettiest," Eiji added petulantly.

"And of course everyone can tell that whether you're walking by or she's watching us practice, the moment you're within five hundred meters of the girl, her attention will automatically snap to you. She goes out of her way to be nice to you, too, which is something normal girls wouldn't attempt seeing as you're such a cold, dispassionate little – what?!" Kaido abruptly ended his speech.

"You're certainly talkative today, Mamushi," Momoshiro commented.

The other boy snorted. "Inui isn't the only who notices things. You guys see it too, don't you?"

The other boys chorused their agreements, with "yeah"s "duh"s and "it's kind of really obvious"s. Tezuka, though not saying anything, gave a look that clearly said, "Even _I _noticed and 99.99% of my attention goes to tennis."

Ryoma had been contemplative for the past minute, and the others decided to party on regardless of Ryoma's romantic plight, because, duh, it was Stuff Your Face With Food 'Cause You're a Teenage Boy Time (in other words, Let's Poke Fun at Loveless Ochibi Time!~! was over). The young tennis prodigy was silent for a while longer, before finally taking out his cell phone and dialing a number he usually didn't have to. Desperate times, desperate measures.

"Horio, I need a favor."

…

"Ryoma-kun. Ryoma-kun, are you alright?" Sakuno shook his shoulder gently. "You kind of spaced out on me there."

"Huh? Oh right, walking you home. Was thinking about something," Ryoma said dismissively. Sakuno raised an eyebrow but he flashed her a smile and was pleased to hear a sharp intake of air.

"W-well, this is it," Sakuno remarked, sounding vaguely disappointed as they reached her house. "I'll see you later then, Ryoma-kun."

"Sakuno…" She was already half inside the doorway when he called her back. "Sakuno, come to the dance with me, next week."

"What?" Her eyes were wide now and her mouth hung open slightly, shocked.

"You like me, don't you?" Trust the data. Inui's data wouldn't lie! "So come with me to the dance. You know, as my date."

There was a pause as the information seemed to sink in. "Whether I like you or not – and I didn't say I did! – doesn't matter if you don't like me," Sakuno shot back, her voice sharp with hurt. She couldn't even look at his face anymore. Did she think this was a pity date?

God, he was going to have to rely on advice from his old man, now! The other regulars hadn't foreseen this kind of reaction. He took two quick strides and pulled Sakuno into a tight embrace. "Of course I like you! I've always liked you! Since the moment I first time I'd laid eyes on you." Okay, the last might've been an exaggeration. He was never taking lines from his dad ever again.

"Always?"

"Always," Ryoma quickly affirmed, hoping to get this mushy emotional part out of the way quickly.

"Always, huh? Always? ALWAYS?" Her hands were tightly gripping the material of his shirt, her fists balled up. "ALWAYS?!"

"Uh, Sakuno…" Damn father. Oh, DAMN she was crying now.

"Then what the _hell_ was with the poking me in the knees and calling me wobbly hips and the 'mada mada dane, Ryuuzaki' and the blowing me off all the time and you just ORDERED me to go the dance with you, 'cause you never ask for anything, acting like I didn't exist and being so _damn _cocky all the time and never thanking me for your bento?!" She emphasized each point by shaking her fists, still clenched around the front of his shirt. "YOURS WAS THE FREAKING PRETTIEST! You never gave any sign that you were anything but neutral towards me!"

Sakuno was having an absolute freak out, her voice becoming hysteric. So, naturally, Ryoma's voice escalated as well. "Well I figured that when I woke up _early_ every day for the past _year_ so that I could practice tennis with you in the _mornings_, you would get the picture!"

"Well _I _figured you were just having fun looking down on me!"

"Hey, I've been saying you've improved," Ryoma said defensively.

"And the knee-poking, and the name-calling, and the bentos?!"

Ryoma took a deep breath, willing himself to get this over with. "… Just – just an excuse to be closer to you, because you look cute when you're flustered, and, alright already, YOUR BENTOS ARE THE FREAKING PRETTIEST! ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?!"

The two teens stood a few feet apart, breathing heavily. Neither of them was used to yelling so much nor to sharing their feelings so openly and loudly. Sighing, Ryoma took Sakuno's hand in both of his, not letting the hand go, even though she fidgeted. "Sakuno Ryuuzaki, will you _please_ be my date for the end of the year dance?"

He watched her face heat up, turning a delicate shade of pink. Then it turned a not-so-delicate shade of pink. Then it was just red. "Sakuno, Sakuno, breathe! Are you alright?" He let go of her hand for just a moment and she raced into her house, slamming the door in his face.

"I guess… I just got rejected, then…?" Ryoma asked the air, shock not quite allowing disappointment to settle in.

"YES!" A voice yelled through the door. "Ryoma-kun… I would _love _to go with you to the dance next week."

…

"Ryoma, you're such a silly child," his mother sniffed, wiping away a tear. "But a child no longer, it seems. Ryoma's growing up! Oh, this is such a happy moment!"

"You're telling me you're crying – crying with tears and sniffles and all that – because you're _happy_?!" Ryoma demanded, outraged. "Girls do that?!"

**Author's Note:** I've worked on this a long time, so please review! P=


End file.
